Cupid's Arrow
by Elijah Blackwood
Summary: As you know, my fairies are gone. They visit from time to time and this time brought me a gift of one wish. It's not exactly my forte- this wishing thing. Don't judge me on these mistakes (or the maid outfit). SLASH!
1. Prologue

_**A Poem of My Sorrow****s**_ by **Timmy Turner**

_I used to believe that nothing could be better than Saint Valentine's,_

_to see happy couples with their fingers intertwined._

_But I was a child then who believed in eternal love,_

_like weddings where they released those crummy doves._

_Unbeknownst to most people,_

_I'm not exactly the guy girls want to meet in a wedding steeple. _

_Don't laugh at me or pity my pain but through this story,_

_see what others have gained- and it's not eternal glory._

_Close your eyes and see what I see,_

_my crappy love life that will never, EVER, be. _

* * *

**_Author's Note:_**

**_Oh god how I hate rhyming my poetry._**

**_But oh well, Timmy's the kind to rack his brain to find the perfect rhyme, so whatever._**

**_Enjoy this whirlwind of a fic, coming soon!_**


	2. The Dinklebergs (PART 1 START)

I felt sick as the Dinklebergs put up their Valentine's Day decorations.

"Timmy!" Sheldon called out to me, I smiled as politely as I could as I could on my least favorite day of the year.

"Hi, Mr. Dinkleberg."

He smiles, waving his hand in dismissal, "For God's sake, Timmy, call me Sheldon. Only your father doesn't."

I nod, Sheldon has been a pretty good confidant since my parents are never home.

"Want help with the decorations?" I find myself asking.

His wife descends from the ladder and puts a hand on my shoulder.

"Don't even think about it, Timmy. Come on inside, the party we're going to will start soon and I'm taking the cookies."

Despite myself, I laugh.

She's always cooking, whether it's my breakfast, lunch, dinner, even midnight snack.

She's becoming more of a mother to me than my own.

I take a seat and she hands me a heart-shaped cookie.

I break it down the middle and eat one half.

She looks at me sadly before smiling again, "We got you a Valentine's gift, I hope you don't mind."

I pop the rest of the cookie into my mouth.

_God, her cooking is wonderful._

"More cookies, I hope?" I ask and she laughs, handing me a red bag.

I open it and see a small, red vial with a heart on it, filled to the cork with some kind of liquid.

"I know you're into that Wicca stuff. This is a love potion. I'm not sure if it works but the bottle is pretty."

I smile wryly, hugging her, it is kind of her but unnecessary.

Plus, the Rede would kick me in the ass for it threefold.

I take a closer look, reading the small print engraved in the heart.

It's Latin but I can translate it, albeit slowly.

"Where'd you get it?" I asked.

At my sudden interest she smiles, thinking I'm pleased, "It's a secret."

_Cupidinem adducite mihi opus est ad propositum. Et videtur dicere. Unum solum utuntur ita voluerint diligenter._

_Bring Cupid unto me, for I need a wish. Say these words and he shall appear. One use only so wish carefully._

"Timmy, go home and change. Come to the Valentine's party with us."

I frown and she smiles, "It'll be fun. There will be a lot of nice, single boys there."

I roll my eyes, grinning, "I never should have told you."

"Well, there are, so hurry up. Wear a suit. No tie, unbutton two of the top notches." she winks and goes in her bedroom.

Why not, not like I have anything else to do on a Friday night.

* * *

**_AUTHOR'S NOTE:_**

**_Was going to write in my fancy-schmancy _****_new _****_format but it seems a little stupid to when Timmy is narrating haha_**

**_Oh well, whatever._**

**_Remy is not going to be in this for a bit so please be patient._**

**_Angsty Timmy will have to suffice for the moment haha_**

**_Enjoy the story!_**


	3. The Blond

Once I rode in their car to get to the party, it had gotten dark.

I couldn't see a foot in front of my face but the house was lit up with lights and dance music.

I shrug my suit jacket onto my shoulders and smooth out the wrinkles.

I quickly put my phone and iPod on the inside pockets for fear of losing them.

I step out of the back of the car and feel a rush of nostalgia.

The place seemed familiar.

A waft of roses invaded my nose.

Rose bushes?

A lot of them by the smell of it.

"Come on, kiddo, we'll be late!" she calls and I rush after her.

We get inside and my phone starts to vibrate.

A knowing look crosses her face and she points to a hallway.

"First door on the left."

I thank her and run inside, closing the bathroom door before turning on the light.

I answer the call, "Hello?"

"Timmy?"

"Wanda?"

"Yes! So this is your number. I've been trying to find you since last week! You changed numbers again!"

I laugh awkwardly, "Well, I kinda broke my phone again, so.."

"Anyway, where are you? We have a present for you, we even left Poof at Mama Cosma's to give us more time."

I shrug, even though they can't see, "No idea. Try looking for a big house with a party going on, close by my house."

She popped up beside me with Cosmo beside her, both with goofy grins on their faces.

"Gosh, we missed you, Timmy." Wanda says as they both hug me.

I'm much taller than them, now.

"Change into people, I'll help you blend in."

They change to my size.

"Try looking my age too."

"Uh, how old are ya again, sport?"

"Eighteen."

"Right."

They looked my age, good.

"Give Cosmo a purple suit with a green tie."

She did.

"Now, you should wear a dress."

She poofs on a bridal gown.

"Less formal."

A sundress.

"More formal."

A floorlength, red dress with thin sleeves.

"Much better now just make it up to your knees."

She did.

Perfect.

"Now."

I put down Wanda's hair, which reaches her shoulders.

I tussle Cosmo's hair, making it spike.

I take their crowns and stick them in Wanda's bag.

"There, now we can go."

Time to be a punch bowl dweller, like I have my entire life.

They poof us outside then we walk in like we just arrived.

We sit by he punch bowl and I feel a twinge of anger.

Will I be a lonely fucking wallflower for the rest of my life or will I _do_ something about it?

I look around and see a blond in the middle of the dance floor, dancing calmly.

Not even really dancing, just shifting his weight and moving his arms.

Either way, I could do one of two things.

I could grow a pair and talk to the guy who's back is to me.

Or I could sit here like a pansy and do nothing.

I see a slight flicker in the corner of their eye, they're watching me.

I quickly turn to my former godparents.

Apparently, my choice is the latter.


	4. The Idiot

They notice my discomfort.

"You alright, Timmy?" Cosmo asked, looking at me.

I nod, "Yeah."

Cosmo looks at his wife and smiles broadly, "Timmy and I will be back soon, we need to talk."

She nods, a look of surprise hiding in her eyes.

She knows something's up.

We walk outside and he sits on a stone bench beside a row of crimson roses.

I knew I smelled roses.

He looks at me solemnly, "Timmy, why are you alone on Valentine's Day, of all days?"

I shrug, "Chester and A.J. are playing video games all night."

He frowns, "Your 'back-up' friends?"

"Sanjay and Elmer are having a Leader of the Goblins marathon."

A small smile turned the corners of his mouth, "At least you have me, and I know you got chocolates again this year."

I roll my eyes, "Obligatory chocolate from friends don't count."

His smile fades, "I gave you chocolate."

I nod, "You're my go-... former godparent, you kinda have to."

We were silent for a while.

"I wanted to. It's not obligatory, Timmy."

Another pause.

"Plus, you like both guys and girls, right?"

I nod.  
"Then, why should it matter who it is you get chocolate from?"

I grit my teeth, he doesn't understand.

I want someone to love, not just chocolate.

He stands, "Patty said to give you one free rule-free wish."

I cringe at the name of my replacement, "Is she sure?"

Cosmo nods, "And she says to visit from time to time, she likes your company."

I nod, "I will."

As he walks away, I whisper to myself, "I wish girls would give me chocolate. I'm tired of hoping after straight guys."

I follow after him and once I get inside I hear him giggling something to Wanda.

She's fuming, yelling as quietly as she can.

I rush over, "What's wrong?"

She hisses, "Cosmo, you IDIOT!"

I push her shoulder slightly, gripping her attention.

"What's. Wrong."

She bites her lip, "You made your wish to Cosmo and he messed it up."

I remember what I said and lunge at him.

That was personal, not only that, but you messed it up! I thought.

"What did you do."

He laughs nervously and I get a load of texts.

Four to be exact.

They all say the same thing:

Timmy, something weird is going on!

Wanda crosses her arms angrily, "He turned everyone who gave you chocolate into the opposite gender."

I scream shamelessly, "You WHAT?!"

* * *

**_A.N. _**

**_Reviews make me update faster lol_**

**_PMs too but I prefer reviews._**

**_Anyway, lots of this story left to go._**

**_Bye, guys._**

**_~Elijah X. Blackwood_**


	5. The Shock

"That's what I was afraid of-" Wanda whispers.

"I can't take him anywhere."

I want to pace, but I hold it in, trying to ignore the stares around me.

"You have to FIX THIS!" I whisper as loud as I can.

Cosmo sighs, "You had one wish. One."

I scowl, "You're almost as bad as Norm, twisting my words around."

He looks hurt but I ignore it.

"For now, I need to group the guy-... girls.. together to sort this out."

Wanda nods, "We'll keep in touch. Texting is faster so we'll use that."

I nod and we leave together.

They hide behind a bush before poofing away.

I walk home, trying to sort this through.

I respond to each of their texts:

Meet me at the old tree house, NOW.

Once I get home, I raid through my mom's closet and grab some clothes.

I stuff them into a bag and include some of my dad's as well, you never know.

I hurry up into the old treehouse and look around.

I haven't been up here in years.

My old couch is ragged, my rug is stained with Coke and my electricity is practically gone.

I turn on a light and lay on the couch, waiting.

* * *

"Wake up, dude!" I hear a voice yell.

"Wha-?" I say groggily, sitting up.

Apparently, I fell asleep.

I take a quick sweep around the room with my eyes, still blurred with sleep.

The bag of my mom and dad's clothes is still there.

I see four figures.

I my eyes adjust and-

Woah, never saw that coming.

I notice Chester first.

His braces are still there but where his flat chest was, well...

He now had large breasts and was wearing his usual layers.

His hair was long, down to his waist.

Then there was A.J.

His hair was short, barely a centimeter long.

His face seemed leaner but not much changed, still normal in proportion.

Elmer was kind of pudgy, still.

Sanjay had shoulder-length hair and petite features.

Seeming almost shy, as he kept pushing up his too-big glasses.

I hear a scream and rush to the window.

It's from Vicky and Tootie's house.

_Oh, no!_ I think.

_They gave me chocolates too!_

Though the ones Vicky gave me were laced with poison...

Still counts.

I rush over to the window and yell up.

"Tootie, what's wrong?!"

She leans out the window, long black hair and muscular male body leaning out the window.

Her glasses replaced with her contacts she wears religiously.

"Something's wrong! Vicky and I- we-!"

I take a deep breath, "Meet me at the treehouse with your sister!"

She- or rather, he- nods and runs off.

I get back into the tree, "So, you guys aren't the only one's, apparently."

I play it off, hoping my years of lying pay off.

They do.

"Oh thank god." Chester mutters.

"In the meantime, get dressed in these."

I hand them the bag, "I made sure to include clothes that fit your styles."

A.J. scowls, "It's like you knew."

I run with it, "I heard about this weird toxic gas in the area doing this so I came prepared just in case."

They take it as fact and begin undressing.

Each of them watch each other out of the corner of their eyes.

I watch them too.

Not only because I like girls too, but because it's surreal.

Looking at them, I notice, Cosmo was really thorough.**  
**


	6. The Jackass

Elmer pulls on a black turtleneck, "Guys, am I the only one worried here?"

I shrug, pointing to each of them.

"Who knows how long it'll last. Until it wears off, you guys are now Alma (Elmer), Meena (Sanjay) , Helena (Chester), and Alexa (A.J.)"

'Alexa' deadpans, "You're kidding."

I laugh, "No, actually, I'm not."

I hear a rustling and the hatch opens, Vicky and Tootie crawling inside.

Luckily, the guys were dressed.

"There's some clothes in that bag."

Tootie nods and grabs some for her and Vicky.

"You two, until further notice, are now Gaston* and Vic."

Vic stiffens but gets dressed quickly.

"Anyway, you guys need to bunk up here til this all blows over."

They all turn to glare at me.

"Not happening, twerp." Vic growls.

"Do you WANT people to ask questions?"

Silence.

"Thought so. Just hang tight. I'll figure this out, okay?"

They nod and I text Wanda, leaving the treehouse:

I think they're all rounded up, but I have a feeling that I'm missing something.

"Timmy!" I hear in a high, but strangely melodious, voice.

Oh no, it's-

"I'm a girl! Can I hide out here, the press would have a field day?"

"Sure, Chipette, head on up."

He rushes off, ignoring the nickname and rushes into the treehouse.

The feeling's gone.

I text her again:

Nevermind, she just walked in.

* * *

I take a walk around the neighborhood, trying to clear my head.

I just hope she'll approve of a second wish.

Soon.

Someone bumps into me and we both fall on our butts.

"Ow."

"Watch it, will you?"

I'm about to apologize when I see their face.

"...Remy?"

"...yeah?"

"As in, Remy Buxaplenty."

He rolls his eyes, "Uh, yeah."

His voice is no longer nasally, pompous, or with an accent.

Just... normal.

F.U.N. Academy must've bent him into shape.

"Wait..."

He stands, his eyes turning dark, "Turner..."

I stand, a wry smile on my face, "So I see I don't have to reintroduce myself."

"Nope."

I smile a bit, trying to break the tension, "Your hair's longer.."

He twirls bits between his fingers, "Yeah, and you are lacking in buck teeth,"

He gets a cat-like smile, "I'm so proud." he says sarcastically.

I roll my eyes, "Trying to pick a fight, like always."

He huffs.

"We're not in elementary school anymore, we can be friends if you tried."

He huffs again and bumps past me, "Forget it."

"Wait... I need your help."

I vaguely remember Wanda telling me that Remy was also allowed to keep his memories of his fairy.

"Cosmo fucked up and I need some help."

He sighs, his shoulders relaxing, "Fine, let's take this conversation elsewhere."

I nod, "Okay."

We walk on the sidewalk silently before he interrupts, "Where's your fairies?"

"Reassigned." I say steadily, but the word still hurts.

"Mine too."

"What about your parents?" I ask carefully and he laughs emptily.

"Same as ever."

"Mine too." I mumble and he looks at me strangely.

As if he'd never seen me before.

"What do you mean?"

"Just like your parents, they're practically dead to me."

We reach a bench and take a rest.

"I didn't know..."

"Nothing for you to be jealous of now, we're in the same boat."

It came out harsher than I wanted but he just smiles, only slightly.

"Well then, Turner, I believe that I owe you a 'sorry for being a jackass' fruit basket."

I laugh, hard, something I haven't done in a long time.

"Nah, just a mansion by the sea will suffice."

He laughs softly, "Taking advantage of my chivalry, are we?"

"Maybe."

We stop laughing and he sighs, "Now, what's going on?"

"It's a long story."

"I've got all night."

* * *

**_A.N._**

**_*Tootie=fart_**  
**_Gaston(Beauty and the Beast)= fart_**  
**_YAY!_****  
**


	7. The Deal

I obliged and tell him only the important stuff:

Cosmo.

Wish.

Idiot.

Genderswap.

Living in my treehouse.

By the end he looks exhausted, "Wow. This is a usual thing for Cosmo?"

I sigh, putting my chin in my hands, "Pretty much."

He laughed a bit, probably thinking of his fairy.

"Anyway, I'll help since I'm probably one of the few people you know left unchanged."

I cross my arms, "You're acting like I'm popular or something."

He smiles, "I have talked to Chip Skylark loads of times, yet he goes to you for help."

I chew the inside of my cheek, "Well-"

He waves his hand in dismissal, continuing.

"Plus you've been in some of his music videos."

I frown, watching the fountain in the middle of the square, "And?"

"Are you saying none of that has made you popular?" he looks surprised.

"Quite the opposite, actually. Not even Trixie Tang cared."

His eyes flash to me at the mention of her name, it was obvious I had liked her.

Everyone in our grade did, even he did, except for Chester.

He got the hives.

Which made it obvious of his orientation even at such a young age.

I used to plan mine, and Trixie's, life together.

That is, until I found out Trixie wasn't the only prospect in the world.

I feel my throat tighten thinking of her.

"Sorry, Timmy."

"From you, I prefer Turner, especially when it's just to pity me."

He looks surprised but masks it quickly before nodding.

"Okay, Turner."

"Get off your high horse too while you're at it, Buxaplenty."

I look over at him again and his position gets defensive.

His nostrils flare slightly.

"I may need your help but I can manage on my own."

"Then why don't you?"

" 'cause for once in my life I actually need the help. No fairies to do my 'dirty work'."

He flinches, looking at me strangely.

Probably more pity.

"I'll help you, on one condition."

I knew this would happen.

"What?"

"You have to be my maid for a month."

His WHAT?!

"Your what?!"

"And you have to wear the outfit."

Memories of my childhood flood back.

God, I hate them sometimes.

"Fine. I'll do it but you hold up your end of the bargain."

His mouth twists into a large, cheshire-like smirk.

"With pleasure, Turner. Now, what size do you wear?"

I glare.

"Ooh, better yet! It'll be tailor made."

That smile.

That goddamned smile.

I wanna punch it right off of his freaking face!

I sigh, holding out my hand.

"Deal."

His smile softens to one of amusement and shakes my hand.

"Deal."

* * *

**_A.N._**

**_Well, I'm going on vacation tomorrow and won't be back until Sunday._**

**_You know what that means?_**

**_Little to no updates._**

**_Any critiques on this fic is welcome!_**

**_Just PM them so I can respond faster!_**

**_. . . . ._**

**_Full title of this chapter is:_**

**_Rotten Tales of my Childhood and The (Devil's) Deal_**


	8. The Mutuality

We start walking towards Patty's house and I pull the sleeves of my hoodie further down.

I'm glad I changed into a tee and jeans at my house when I packed those clothes.

Otherwise, I'd be super uncomfortable.

_Nevermind, still am._

I look over at him.

One second we're laughing like best friends and then the next he does a one-eighty.

Deciding it's a better idea to use me for his own advantage.

Maybe I'm giving him the opportunity.

_That's gotta stop._

I breathe, a white cloud curling up from my mouth.

He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes.

He takes one and lights it, holding it between his middle and index fingers.

He takes a long drag from it and I gag.

_I can't** stand** smoke._

He exhales out of his nose, smoke rushing skyward.

He resembled that bull from Looney Tunes if ya ask me.

"Want one?" he asks cynically.

The corner of my mouth twitches in distaste, "No thanks."

He flicks off the ash by flicking the filter with his thumb.

"Do you drink?" he asks, taking another drag.

"No. What do you take me for?"

He scoffs, "Just trying to find common ground, Turner."

"Try again, then."

"Do you like parties?"

"No."

"Ever gone clubbing?"

"Nope."

"Rave?"

"Not once."

"Do you leave your house?" he asks in dismay.

"Unfortunately. School."

He sighs deeply, "Sorry, that was rude. You should get out more, though."

"Why?"

"It's unhealthy."

I laugh wryly, "I could say the same."

I point to the cigarette.

"My parents bought them for me, might as well use them."

Even though I keep walking, I feel like I'm out of my own skin.

"They approve?"

"They started me on them, actually. Bought me the very first pack."

I want to be sympathetic but I know he doesn't want the pity.

He isn't ashamed.

_If he was, he wouldn't be telling me, right?_

"At least you don't have to buy them yourself."

"Yeah," he says flatly, "Much cheaper on my part."

"Are clubs really that cool? I heard clubs suck around here."

"Not when you have the money to get into a 21 and up."

"Isn't that dangerous? You could get kidnapped or raped or something."

"Who cares? I sure don't."

The unspoken _'No one does.' _lingers between us.

"Maybe you can take me next time, but no drinking."

"Got it, Turner. Nothing _too_ fun."

"No, nothing that will make trouble."

"Trouble for who? Your parents? Your ex-godparents? Who, Turner?" he asks roughly, dropping the cigarette.

He crushes it, gnarling the butt underfoot before walking again.

I don't answer.

We continue on in silence.

_I don't think there's much more we can say at this point._

I look at him quickly, he looks regretful but says nothing.

He's the type to never apologize for speaking his mind.

It's one of his qualities I admire but hate at the same time.

At least, unlike me, he takes everything at face value.

Is always honest to everyone, including himself.

_If only I could learn to do the same._

* * *

**_A.N._**

**_I honestly have no idea where this story is headed lol_**

**_All I know is the romance/maid's outfit won't kick in until part 2_**

**_This is just getting to know their complicated relationship with each other and their parents_**

**_Their pasts actually bind them together, this bit is important so I'll try to explore it_  
**

**_P.S. _  
_Watching Aladdin and mouthing it word-for-word as I type_**

**_Yay for pointless talents_  
**


	9. The Wholeness (END OF PART 1)

As we head to his mansion, nearing light, I think about the smile.

_What was the point of it?_

I'd never seen such a gentle smile on his face, so relaxed.

He smiled softly, in thanks, to Patty when she gave him her Fairy World cell phone.

The ability to talk to Juandisimo was now possible.

_Why did he show that smile to her when he didn't have to?_

I kept it to myself but I think he knows what I'm thinking.

_The idea scares me._

It's at its darkest now, all the street lamps off in preparation for the light.

_We don't have much time._

If the sun rises to its highest before I can unwish the wish...

"It'll be irreversible." I say unconsciously.

He pretends he can't hear but I know he does.

He's more of a listener than he lets on.

The former fairy of his answers Remy's call quickly, promising a quick arrival.

We decide to meet at the park.

* * *

The fairy seems less carefree when he tries to smile.

He laughs weakly at Cosmo's mistake, the humor from long ago has lost it's luster.

"Can you turn all the people back?"

He nods, "I can, Timmy, want me to poof them into bed?"

I nod my head stiffly, "Good idea."

A spark comes from his wand, "Done. They won't remember a thing."

I thank him and ask him to poof me home, he complies.

Before I fully disappear, I hear Remy call out to me.

"First day of summer break until the end you work for me, Turner! Remember that!"

I responded with an okay, I was aware he added two extra months but I owed him.

_Who am I to refuse?_

Plus, I have a couple of months to repair my pride before I work for the rich kid.

I reappear in my room and get in bed, staring at the ceiling.

_I don't know what was going on in my head._

_I felt no relief._

_The problem was solved, right?_

_Why did I feel like I was missing something?_

"Timothy Tiberius Turner, get your ass down here!" I heard my mom yell.

I cringe,_ I hate it when she yells._

_Yelling is one thing I absolutely hate._

I stand steadily, holding myself together as I walk slowly down the stairs.

I hear my dad's irritated foot tapping against the linoleum.

I no longer wonder what I did wrong.

Half the time, it's over stupid shit that wasn't my fault.

I walk across the living room carpet, inching closer to the kitchen.

It's at this point I remember I told a lie to Remy.

An unintentional lie that I told everyone when the subject came up.

_Practically nonexistent_, they weren't.

_Dead to me_, I wished.

_No god is ever so kind to someone as low as me._

The light from the kitchen makes a pinprick of radiance on the floor.

I take a deep breath and hold it in my lungs as I go in the kitchen.

I softly push the door open, the yelling begins.

I close the door behind me and lower my head, staring at the floor.

_No one could ever save me from something like this._

_God helps those who help themselves._

_That may be true, but I would rather suffer in silence._

As I told someone jokingly once, "Pain builds character."

_Little did they know, I was completely serious._

_Pain is my drug._

_I feel empty without torment._

_Apathy is my ally, but Pain is my best friend._

_I need them both to survive._

My mother leaves the room but my father stays.

_Now I will feel whole once more._

He raises his fist and it connects sharply to my ribs.

A fire rises where he hit and tears prick my eyes.

_Bliss._

I hit the floor hard but no mercy is shown.

Dear old dad never fails to teach the lesson of life.

* * *

_**A.N.**_

_**Well, that escalated quickly.**_  
_**I thought this would be a comedy.**_  
_**Guess not.**_

_**~Elijah X. Blackwood**_


	10. This Is My Punishment (PART 2 START)

I hide the fresh bruises under a long sleeved shirt, a baggy tee over it with a worn pair of jeans.

Today is the first day I'll be working for the Buxaplentys.

Mostly one in particular, a certain Remy Buxaplenty who is determined to make my life miserable.

_Now, whether or not he knows this I have no idea._

_Either way, he makes my life worse by breathing._

_No offense to him._

_Oh, who am I kidding, I mean shitloads of offense._

I look out the window at the pouring rain.

_Ominous, much?_

I pull on a denim vest and pull up the hood, running to the mansion.

The sky is dark, almost black, it casts a familiar shadow on the mansion.

_I can't place it._

I knock on the large doors and Remy opens the door.

"You're early." he says matter-of-factly, leaning against the door frame.

I nod, shivering from the cold, some of the huge raindrops still hitting me.

"Gonna let me in?" I ask, my bottom lip quivering, as I shake.

He smirks, using his back to push himself off as he lets me in.

The house is kept dark, pitch black even, except for a single light from upstairs.

"By the way, Turner, measurements are tomorrow. Today is learning the ropes."

I nod and follow.

_This will be a long summer._

* * *

He shows me around the maze he calls a house.

Damn, there's barely three people living here, no need for ten bedrooms.

Especially with adjoining bathrooms.

I mean, good lord, what's with this situation!

He leads me into his bedroom which, unlike mine, is extremely clean and impersonally decorated.

He turns to me with his arms crossed, "Now, Turner, never come in this room unless given permission. Clear?"

I nod, "Crystal."

"For another thing, even though the tailor is coming tomorrow the dress and such won't be here for a while."

I hold my breath as he pauses, breaking the silence, "Meaning?"

"You're stuck here even though the maid outfit isn't here yet. When we get it is when the month count starts." he finishes.

A strange look crosses his face as he stares at my expression.

As soon as I notice it, though, his expression changes to the usual one of smug amusement.

_God-effing-dammit!_

He laughs at my expression, leaving the room.

Following slowly behind him, I notice a picture facing down on his desk.

Only briefly do I wonder what's in the picture.

He shows me in the kitchen, "Your jobs include but aren't limited to: cooking, cleaning, and laundry."

I sigh deeply, "This will be a long day."

He laughs darkly, "Oh, and funny story. You have to work from here so living here is also required."

_Ha ha that's a good one- wait, WHAT!_

_Live here?!_

_With HIM?!_

I suddenly have the urge to ask if he's kidding.

I know he isn't, and that scares the hell out of me.


	11. This Is My Agreement

It's funny how the balance of the world can tilt by just the smallest thing.

In this case it was when he opened a door.

My room in this house, he told me, the maid's quarters.

A square room with a bed on a small outer rectangle, fitted snugly between the three walls.

Only a bed and a small table occupied the small room.

A large bed with white curtains hanging from the canopy, the table at the foot of the bed.

A bathroom across the hall.

It was plain, besides the expensive bed, and undecorated but it looked pleasant.

"Are ya gonna thank me?" he asked wistfully, opening the small closet.

I muffle out a thanks and he waves his palm toward the closet.

"Now, stock this with 5 shirts, 5 jeans. No more, no less." _Okaayy, weird._

I nod. "Boxers and socks are your choice how many to bring."

Another nod in reluctance. "You'll be doing laundry every Sunday, so not too much, though. Bring sneakers."

I nod again, starting to get the feeling that's all I'll be doing.

_Being his Yes Man, then his little bitch._

_The idea makes me sick but I already agreed to this so its my own damn fault._

He ushers me out and when we reach the bottom of the stairs I realize something.

_I knew that statue._

_I'd seen it at the Valentine's Day party!_

"I see you noticed the sculpture."

I say nothing.

"It's an Antonio Canova 'Psyche Revived by Cupid's Kiss', beautiful, is it not?"

I nod, then I remember the guy I'd seen.

I didn't see his face but I wish I did.

He was a great dancer, I didn't even know a guy could move their hips like that.

Remy shoves me sideways, "Hey, don't be thinking dirty stuff. It's just a statue for god's sake."

I feel the blush on my cheeks and take a wary look down, _oh shit_.

I laugh nervously, thinking to myself: Naked old ladies, Andrè the Giant in a speedo!

Luckily the thoughts helped and my... problem... went away quickly.

He acted as if it never happened, luckily.

We went in the kitchen and he showed me where everything was like he did with the rooms.

He then showed me the laundry room after that.

I almost wanted to ask how a rich kid would know where the 'servants' work.

I held my tongue, though, and asked to be dismissed for the day.

He watched me for a few seconds before agreeing and escorting me out.

"Be here before 6 tomorrow, bring what I told you."

I didn't give any affirmation before turning my back and leaving.

It was dark, the rain had gone, it was 70 degrees.

I still felt the chills of foreboding.

* * *

I opened the door and shut it behind me, facing the door, when I smelled vomit and whiskey.

_Dad_...

He punches the door beside my head, I don't dare turn around, "You're late."

"I've started working."

"Who would hire a fuck-up like you, kid?" he takes three steps back, taking another drink from his glass of whiskey.

I decide the truth is better, "The Buxaplentys."

He laughs, "Sure."

"They insist I move in for the summer."

His expression turns sour, "Not happening."

"But, Dad, I-" I stop myself.

_No need to make stupid decisions_.

I smell too much perfume, smoke, and hairspray, _Mom_.

She's smoking, laying on the couch, a cigarette in her hand.

"Let him go,"

I look at her in shock,_ is she actually... supporting me_?

"Maybe they'll teach him some manners." she finishes, taking a long drag.

I want to glare but I don't, knowing she may actually convince him to agree.

He drinks the rest of his whiskey at once, "Fine. Whatever money you make goes to me."

"I don't get paid, I'm repaying a debt."

He looks at me thoughtfully, eyes hazy from alcohol.

"Meet important people and get on their good side, got it?"

I nod and walk upstairs.

Crawling in bed, I pull my clothes off in the bed and toss them on the floor.

I set an alarm on my phone for 2am, curling up in the covers.

_Four hours of sleep._

_Much more than usual._


	12. This Is My Introduction

I wake up at two am, packing the stuff I needed in my old backpack.

I rolled around the list of things in my mind.

Shirts, check.

Pants, check.

Other required clothes, check.

A couple books, check.

A few CDs, check.

Wallet, check.

House keys, check.

"Maid's keys", sigh, check.

Cell phone, check.

Ipod, check.

I put the bag by the window, rubbing my shoulder.

Pulling a baggy hooded sweatshirt from my closet, I pull it over my head.

It feels weird.

Oh, I forgot to wear a shirt under it.

Too tired to care.

I pull on a pair of jeans and a pair of white socks.

I hear shuffling, I freeze, listening to the footsteps.

The bathroom door creaks open and closed.

I wait.

Soon, I hear a flush, the sink, and the shuffling again.

It passes my door and another door closes.

Safe.

I hurry and tie on my sneakers, putting my backpack on and climbing out the open window.

As I walk precariously across the roof, I am hyperaware of noises.

Have to stay alert.

I take a breather when I'm at the edge, the spot I have to jump.

I lean against the roof, looking at my watch.

2:30.

I push off with my foot and jump down, landing on my feet.

A surge of pain shoots from my feet but I run, not looking back.

They can't catch me.

Soon enough, the pain begins subsiding.

I reach the park, a midway point between my house and the Buxaplentys' Mansion.

Stretching, I take a handful of water from the fountain and splash my face.

Once I cool off, I walk the rest of the way to the mansion.

* * *

I go to the back door and unlock it, immediately going inside.

He informed me there was no alarm.

Of that, I was thankful.

Tiptoeing from the mudroom towards the kitchen I heard whispering.

Weird, shouldn't he be asleep?

I swing open the door to see him petting 3 cats, talking to them.

Two lay on the table, one on the floor, its paws in his lap.

I suppress a laugh, "Hey, Remy."

He jumps slightly, startled.

"Oh, hi, Turner."

I walk closer as there's a small silence.

"This is Banshee, Jinx, and Nozomi."

My knowledge of cats is extensive since I've always wanted one, the cats are as follows.

Banshee, a snow Bengal, VERY pricey cat.

Jinx, a black Maine Coon, pricey.

Nozomi, an Ashera, basically a mini African serval crossed with an asian leopard.

They are so god-awfully pricey it would make your head spin.

I've stared too long and the Ashera is slinking towards me.

"Interesting names."

He smiles, "Yes, well each one matches their personality."

"Really?"

"Banshee is a yowler, very loud, and she can be aggressive at times." he states.

I nod, looking over as Nozomi sniffs my hand, I hold it out to her.

Jinx seems to grin pleasantly as Remy scratches her head, "Jinx is very impish and independent."

Nozomi goes on her hind legs and seems to hug me as she nuzzles me on my chest.

I pet her with a small smile, "Nozomi is very affectionate, though she is never like that towards anyone but me."

He has a strange air about him when he says that.

I give her a brief hug before she jumps down and lays by Remy's feet, "I guess she knows a cat person when she sees one."

He stands, "I guess so."

Silence.

"Now, why are you here so early in the morning?"


	13. This Is My Retaliation

I stumble over my words, trying to find my footing.

He stands slowly, in one graceful motion, as he stares me down.

"I wanted to get settled in before I started out." I lied.

He seems suspicious, and indulges me in the lie.

"Oh, well, I'll be here when you finish. You can serve breakfast."

A blank expression masked any emotion, his eyes giving away nothing.

It was not an offer, but a demand.

I nod, "Okay."

He smirks evilly, "When you speak you must bow, no nodding."

I take that into thought, _it could be worse_.

"When I ask something of you you must address me as Sir, My Lord, or Mr. Buxaplenty, you must never call me Remy."

He places his hand across his chest, above his heart.

"You must place your hand here when you bow. Bow halfway down."

I bend as instructed, hand over my heart, "Yes, Mr. Buxaplenty."

I feel as if I can feel my manhood shrinking the more this carries on.

I am nothing more than the devil's harlot, a mere _fucking_ whore.

_Oh God, if you exist, kill me._

He smiles as I rise, looking him in the eyes.

He smiles smugly, "Good, work on that."

I walk past him and Naozomi follows me.

I hang my shirts and jeans up then put everything else on the shelf.

I pulled out my miniscule objects, my CDs and such, and put them under the bed.

Just in case it's considered contraband to "Mr. Buxaplenty".

I take a look towards the door, _he didn't see._

_Well, that's done._

I take a look around, feeling watched, until I locate the source-_ Naozomi._

The cat eyes me warily, I almost expected it to talk to me.

Those days are over, though.

No pink, green, or purple animals to speak to now.

She slinks beside me and nuzzles my hand.

I run my fingers through the fur on her head and leave my room.

Descending the stairs slowly and quietly, I walk to the kitchen and Remy is no longer there.

I get the sudden itch in my hand, wanting to punch him.

_He said he would wait._

_Surprise, surprise._

A small note is left at the table where he'd sat a half hour before.

I read it aloud, "Went to bed, wake me when you finish breakfast."

I frown,_ what does he even want to eat_?

I notice some smaller, hasty writing, "P.S. cook whatever you want, make sure it's edible first, though."

The familiar itch in my fist,_ damn, I want to punch him._

_My cooking isn't that bad, asshole!_

I sigh, getting everything together to make an omelette and french toast.

I'll at least give him a "peasant" breakfast for that comment.

_Take that, jackass._

When I finish I set it on the table and call out, "Mr. Buxaplenty!"

He walks in a few minutes later and frowns, "What's this?"

I smile, "Breakfast."

I can feel him seethe and I take a small pride in it.

I won't be a perfect stable pony, I still have some fight left in me.


	14. This Is My Silence

After he eats, he stands to leave, "I have something to do today, I'll be back later."

I bow, hiding a smirk, "Yes, Mr. Buxaplenty."

I expect a distasteful comment about the humble breakfast, but none came.

When I raise my head though, I see a soft smile, "Thanks for breakfast."

I stand stock still in shock as he leaves, his kindness still shocks me.

I no longer know if it's real or an elaborate hoax.

Chances are, it's the latter.

* * *

I do all the chores, taking my time to do a good job.

I finish at around 10 pm and I see bright headlights coming up the driveway.

Rain pours down, heavy, loud, making the full moon completely darkened by rain clouds.

Remy's home, I thought to myself as I looked from my bedroom window.

I went to the closet and put on my pjs, a red tee and red/black plaid flannel pants.

Barefoot, I walk down the marble stairs and the cold tingled up my legs.

I sit at the last step of the stairs, directly across from the front door.

He comes in, looking exhausted and worn out.

A flash of lightning strikes, alerting him of my presence.

Suddenly, he looks at me and he begins to yell.

"What the fuck are you looking at, huh?!"

I shrink back as he walks closer.

"What's up with that pity in your eyes, Turner?!"

He's a few feet away, my breath hitches.

"I'm the one who should pity YOU, Turner!"

He's a foot away and he raises his hand.

I crab-crawl backwards up the stairs as fast as I can.

His brow furrows, he looks like Francis in math class.

Stupid, brutish, confused, yes, but this is more intimidating.

My heartbeat pounded in my ears.

I left my parents to avoid this kind of situation.

I scramble to my feet and fall back onto the top landing of the stairs.

"Remy, stop!" I croak out and he kicks me roughly, knocking me a foot away.

"Don't tell me what to do!" he kicks me in the stomach.

I laugh humorlessly at him.

"There's the real Remy, a heartless bastard in self-righteous fucking clothing."

"Shut up!" he yells at me.

Another flash of lightning and I see tear streaks down his face.

Pain or frustration, maybe both.

White-knuckled fists at his sides.

A bruise on his cheek, maybe a black eye.

He kicks me again, much harder this time, aimed towards my ribs.

I turn quick enough that it hits my back instead.

"Stop moving!"

"You can't expect me to stay still!"

"Yes, I can!"

"You're acting like a baby!"

I was beside myself, I was getting way out of line.

Then again, so was he.

I withheld tears of pain, "Remy, talk to me."

I say it softly, painfully, and he stops.

One.

Two.

Three steps back.

Then he runs.

He ran towards his room and I stood up and limped towards mine.

* * *

The next morning, we didn't talk to each other.

He did have a black eye, along with haunted eyes.

I had bruises and was pretty sore, I couldn't look him in the eye.

We didn't talk for a week.

The same routine every day.

I made an elaborately posh breakfast, he would leave.

I would do chores, he'd come back late.

I was afraid we'd never speak again.

He wouldn't allow that, though.


	15. This Is My Greeting

A few days after complete silence, he looks at me simply.

I feel like he will say something but he just stays silent.

I feel pure rage as he stands, ignoring me, and heads towards the front door.

He opens the door and I run after him, sliding on the polished floor.

Almost falling due to my socks, I yell at him, "You can't ignore me forever!"

He looks at me briefly over his shoulder before closing the door.

I knew that look, paired with that ghost of a smile.

Be it that I knew him well enough or his eyes were just that expressive.

His eyes said, "Believe me, I can, and I will."

At around four pm, I hear the large door open, slowly.

The heavy door creaks, I realize it's the back door.

I rush to it and bow, "Welcome back, Mr. Buxaplenty."

Just because he was giving me the silent treatment, didn't mean I was allowed to ignore him.

"What a warm welcome, Mr. Turner."

I look up at the voice, it is none other than Remy's father.

He looks exactly how I expected.

Clean shaven, shined shoes, his suit jacket over his shoulder, an emotionless expression.

He looked young for his age.

Much too young.

His hair parted on the side, brushed to the right, blonde with hints of brown.

No gray hair either.

Remy's was parted the other way, I noticed.

His wife walked in with her purse in hand, then smiled at me wryly.

She had red hair that curved under at her shoulders, only wrinkles on her forehead.

No laugh lines whatsoever, which explained tiny things that I wouldn't realize until later.

"Hello, Timmy."

I immediately felt like I was intruding.

Mr. Buxaplenty seems to be like a older version of Remy.

He, however, seemed more controlled, calculated even.

I bowed, "Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Buxaplenty."

The missus let out a short, shrill laugh, almost a giggle.

"Oh, please. I'm Harriet, my husband is Ronald."

I look at them, confused.

"Mrs. Harriet and Mr. Ronald would do just fine, Mr. Turner." Ronald said with a small smile.

It looked almost identical to the one Remy showed me.

In this case, though, I knew for a fact it did not mean the same thing.

This smile scared me, I bowed and left the room, trying to hurry away.

I lead Remy's cats into my room, in case the parents didn't like them.

Then, I held my ear to the door, waiting.

Eventually, I gave up and flopped on my bed.

The cats, one my one, joined me and I eventually fell asleep.

Once I woke up, the cats were gone and my door was open.

I guess Remy took them back.

I see the moon high in the sky and wonder.

Would we even know each other if we weren't enemies?

I wonder how that life would be...

One without a rich kid who hates me.

Or maybe one less friend, but who am I kidding?

He sees me as nothing more than a worthless bug.

At least, that's what I think.


	16. This Is My Fear

I woke up before sunrise, putting on a tee and jeans so I could go outside.

Going through the front door, and closing it quietly, I sat on stairs of the front porch.

Slowly, the sun began to rise over the horizon.

I hear small thunks of a decrepit bike, suddenly, I recognize the sound.

_It's Chester._

_He always** was** there when I needed him._

That's what I thought, until I saw the bag on his shoulder.

_He's a paperboy_, I notice, frowning.

_He couldn't know where I was, anyway, how could he?_

He throws the paper, hard, towards the front door.

It lands at my feet, when I go to grab it, I lock eyes with him.

His eyes squint slightly but he doesn't stop.

He turns his head and keeps pedaling.

Deep down, I wonder if he chose to ignore me or if he didn't see me.

Then I swallow, going inside because I realize something.

_I don't want to know._

_The truth has always scared me, that will never change._

_I know that for a fact._

* * *

Once I bring the paper in, I set it at the place mat closest to the window.

The circular table is shoved against the wall, only allowing 3 places.

The place that makes your back face the window is where Remy sits.

That is, until the day we stopped talking, now he sits facing the wall.

Remy usually instructs me to leave the paper at his place mat but I'm feeling a bit rebellious today.

I know, I'm a total badass (yeah, right).

* * *

The sun has completely risen, and I've made 3 servings of breakfast.

I put a single plate on each one and waited for the Buxaplentys.

A few minutes of standing made me tired, luckily, Mr. Buxaplenty came downstairs.

Dressed in his white suit, a red tie hung untied under his collar.

He looked like someone from a magazine.

He walked into the kitchen and smiled awkwardly at me, "Oh, hello, Mr. Turner."

I motion towards the table with my palm, bowing as I do.

"I made breakfast, Mr. Buxa- I mean, Mr. Ronald."

His smile faded, his face spoke business, "Thank you, Mr. Turner, it looks delicious.

He sat at the chair where his back faced the window.

Remy's old seat.

* * *

A few minutes later, his wife came in.

She wore a form-fitted white dress, pearl earrings, tier-beaded pearl necklace, and a diamond tennis bracelet.

She looked just as stunning for only 6 in the morning.

"Good morning, Mrs. Harriet. I made breakfast." I said politely, bowing.

"I noticed, thank you, Timmy." she said lightly, sitting across from her husband.

I look over at Remy's seat, empty.

"Would you mind waking that lazy son of mine?" Mr. Buxaplenty says offhandedly.

I bow, "Yes, sir."

As I ascend the stairs slowly, I hear soft meows.

My eyes widen, rushing up the stairs quickly.

If they don't know about the cats, for some reason, finding out now is _not_ the best time.

Once I reach his room, I knock on the door.

I wait three seconds, no response.

_Oh no, is something wrong?_

Slowly, I open the door.

* * *

_**A.N.**_

_**Hey, guys! If you haven't figured it out yet, each part of this fic has 8 chapters each. Do you know what that means? **_

_**Yep, only one more chapter until the fated PART 3. This is where things get heated up.**_

_**Not sure about the slash yet, I'm just seeing where the story takes me.**_

_**It WILL be included, mind you.**_

_**BUT! The maid outfit will be introduced in PART 3, I know that much.**_

_**:D**_


	17. This Is My Perception (END OF PART 2)

Once the door is open, I see Remy laying in bed.

_He's just asleep_, I reassure myself as I walk closer.

He's wearing a fitted v-neck and boxer shorts, I notice as I yank off the covers.

He curled in a ball, trying to get warm.

Sighing, I open the curtains and he moves his arm from behind his head.

Laying on his back he lays his arm, wrist up, covering his eyes.

"Time to wake up Mr. Buxaplenty, your parents have sent for you."

He sighs in distaste, turning away from me.

_Still with the silent treatment._

He pulls the covers over his head, ignoring me completely.

I crawl on the bed, trying to pull the comforter off of him.

After a few seconds of struggle, I pull too hard and hit myself in the mouth.

My lip starts to bleed and I mutter, getting off the bed.

"I'll leave now."

He snarls, "It was your own damn fault...", he whispered so low I barely heard it.

"Who refused to get up!?" I countered.

"Who is violently waking me at 6:30 in the morning?!"

"Oh, so NOW you decide to talk to me?!" I say, aghast.

He laughs short and humourlessly, "Guess so."

"God! You piss me off!" I yell at him.

He crawls closer to me, but it hardly registers, sitting on the edge of the bed.

He seems to smile, facing me directly, "Well, glad to see you getting angry about SOMETHING."

"You're acting all high and mighty, Buxaplenty." I scoff.

"I could say the same," he says shortly, wiping the blood from my lip with the end of his shirt.

I move back, and he looks at me darkly, "Tell them I'll be down soon."

I nod curtly, leaving him behind.

_I'm sick of the games and his two-faced personality._

_Sick of all this bullshit._

* * *

"We're leaving in a few hours, go to the events, and we'll watch out for you."

A few minutes later, he reports downstairs in a dress shirt and pants, "Hello, Mother... Father."

I feel waves of tension as Ronald raises his eyes to meet Remy's.

"We're leaving in a few hours. Go to the events, and we'll watch out for you."

He nods numbly as an awkward silence falls over the room.

I felt an odd sense of hatred in the air.

Once the parents finished their breakfast, they stood and left.

_Not until they left did I realize something._

_'We're leaving in a few hours, go to the events, and we'll watch out for you.' they said._

_The words and the tone didn't match._

_The tone said : We're leaving, again, don't wait up. Be a good kid, or else._

_This idea scared me so I tried to ignore it but I know there's no way I could._

_Let alone look at them the same way again._

He looked at me silently after his parents left, a lasting look.

Then, standing, he stopped beside me briefly.

"We're meeting the tailor today to get measurements, a different tailor will make the uniform."

I nod, glad that it wouldn't be linked directly to me.

_Deep down, I still hated that stupid maid outfit._

_At least the smart ass was talking to me again._


	18. That Weird Smirk (PART 3 START)

After a very awkward session of a girl measuring me, I was worn out.

I waited in the back of the limo while Remy's driver got out.

Remy motioned him over and whispered something in his ear.

The man nodded as he talked, "All right, right away, sir."

Once he walked away, I glared at Remy.

"What did you tell him?"

"Nothing." he said with a grin.

"What are you, two?"

With a completely straight face he holds up three fingers.

"No, I'm tree!" he lisps like a child.

My smile betrays me and I start laughing.

He smiles a bit, "I don't want you to hate me."

This surprised me, "Since when, exactly?"

"Since I realized you aren't as stupid as you look."

I was about to voice a retort when the driver returns.

He sets two large boxes, one purple and one red, in the floorboard and goes back to his seat.

I'm tempted to look into the boxes and then realize it's best if I don't.

It would be harder to accept it if I see it now rather than later.

I know for a fact I'll thank myself later.

Remy catches me eyeing the box and his grin widens, "No peeking."

"Wasn't gonna." I counter, looking out the window.

Once we reached the house, he put the boxes in my arms.

"You may open the purple box tomorrow, if you open it before that, I'll know."

I give him a skeptic look, "Oh, really? How?"

"You're room is bugged, obviously." he says matter-of-factly.

Ok, can I punch him now, PLEASE?

No?

Oh, well, worth a shot.

Once I got to my room, I set the boxes on the shelf in my closet and closed the door.

I'm no longer tempted to open either box.

I'm leaning more towards the temptation to _burn_ them now.

I strip and am clad in my boxers when I realize something.

Remy said the room was bugged.

He could've just been fucking with me, but the idea still sends shivers down my spine.

That's freakin' creepy to bug someone's room, even if they _are_ "the help".

I dismiss the idea, it was stupid to fall for that joke of a threat.

Now completely bored with the idea of putting on clothes, I lay on top of the bed.

I pull a book from the stack near the bed, setting Misery by Stephen King in my lap as I adjust the pillow.

I open the book to the first page, looking up one last time at the door before diving into the book.

Ensnared by someone with seemingly good intentions before turning into a complete sociopath.

_Wow, sounds like my current situation._

At least I'm not bedridden or have to drink my own piss, that's just plain gross.

* * *

After a while, I'm pretty far in the book I look up and see Remy.

I set down the book, "What the hell? Knock first!"

He walks closer, silently, with _that_ _damn smirk _on his face.

Crawling onto the bed on all-fours, he pins my wrists above my head.

I try to assess the situation but am dizzy from the heat coiling in my stomach,_ god_.

He leans down and nips on my neck, I let out a loud yelp.

I look at the wall where I just hit my head, Misery still in my hand.

_Why the hell am I dreaming about that jackass?!_

_Let alone him doing, OH GOD._

My face heats up and I jump up and go in my bathroom, quickly taking a cold shower.

_Fuck, what the hell am I thinking..._


	19. That Weird Personality

I walked out after the shower in my pjs from earlier, my hair still wet.

I slunk downstairs to get a glass of water.

I swear, I almost jumped out of my skin.

Sitting there, at the last step was Remy, reading a book.

Under the light coming from the window beside me was the only light.

He stopped, and turned towards me, dark circles under his eyes.

"Couldn't sleep?" I ask passively, heading to the kitchen.

He follows, closing the novel around his index finger to mark the page.

"Actually, yes. Yesterday was a stressful day for me." he says, sitting at the island.

I stand by the sink, filling the cup before turning to him.

"Wanna talk about it?" I ask, taking a drink of the water.

He takes his thumb and index finger, pinching his eyes.

I watch, taking another drink, "Want some water? Maybe some migraine meds?"

He shakes his head, "Don't have any."

I look at the clock on the wall, 3am.

"The 24-hour Mart is open, give me some cash and I'll get some for you."

He smiles sleepily, "I'd appreciate it."

Again with that damned personality.

It's never consistent.

I never know what to think.

I stand, finishing the glass, "Alright, I'll get dressed and go now."

He nods awkwardly, placing his palm sideways over his mouth.

I cautiously put my hand on his shoulder, "Come on with me, if you're up to it."

He looks at me, shocked.

"Well, I can't leave you alone. You may get sick and no one could help."

He runs his hand through his hair, nodding.

"Okay, meet you at the front door in 5 minutes, we'll walk."

We went our separate ways up the stairs, going in our rooms.

I pulled off my shirt and pulled on a pair of jeans and a white shirt.

Remembering my hair was wet, I dried it off a bit with my pajama shirt.

I pulled on my shoes and went to the bottom of the stairs.

A bit later, Remmy joined me wearing the same thing the night I bumped into him.

"Is that the only non-expensive clothes you own?" I ask lightly.

He grins, half-amused, "Well, it is, actually."

A broad grin cracks my face, a plan beginning to form.

He doesn't notice as he locks up the house, walking with me.

Sooner or later, we reach the store I take him to the meds aisle.

I grab a bottle of anti-migraine and a water bottle from checkout.

Once I pay for them, I make him take a couple and walk him towards the back.

With the common excuse, "I need something while we're here."

He didn't seem to care, waiting for the relief to kick in.

I took him to the clothes part and smiled, "Time to get you civilized."

He gives me a weird, tired laugh, "What?"

"Civilian... Civilized... Weren't you supposed to be the smart one?"

He nods a bit and I ask his size.

Once he tells me, I sit him down and grab a pile of shirts and jeans.

I know which would look good so I got tons of greys and greens.

I also got him a couple pairs of ripped jeans, skinnies, and carpenters.

I made sure he had tons of variety.

He looked amused at my bustling around.

He waves me over, "What?" I ask.

He hands me his credit card, "Go crazy."

I smile genuinely, "Really?"

He nods and, who the fuck knows why, but I dropped all the clothes and hugged him.

He hugged back but almost stiffly, so I backed off, "Uh, I'll go get a cart."

His face is a bit red but I dismiss it as the migraine, going off to get a cart.

Once I come back, I put everything inside.

"Get in." I gesture towards the cart.

"Seriously?" he looks skeptic, the medicine is starting to work.

"Yes, you're so exhausted you can hardly stand. It'll be fine."

He shrugs, getting in the cart, arranging the stuff around him.

It's hard to push at first but the idea of the movie section helped.

He said to go crazy, and I am.

Movie marathon, here we come.

I will make this boy relax even if it kills me.


	20. That Weird Feeling

I got every movie he said he hadn't seen that I liked.

He had only seen a handful of them which I found pretty pathetic.

"How could you've NOT seen The Lost Boys?" I ask, heading to the front desk.

I can tell he's tired now because the meds kicked in, he is acting like a kid.

He had his chin on the handlebar, looking up at me, "Well, I had other things to do."

I laugh, he looked like a puppy, "Yeah, like what?"

His eyes turned sour for a brief second, "My dad taught me business, so did my mom."

I think to myself, well, I didn't have much of a childhood either.

At least I had Chester and AJ, though, he had no one.

How lonely.

"You got all quiet." he comments, pulling all the movies and clothes into his lap in a stack.

I apologize, pulling up to the only open aisle and Remy hands her the clothes and movies.

The older woman smiles, blushing a bit as she scans and bags everything.

I look over at Remy, no product in his hair to make it stand up so it hangs limply out of his eyes.

A red slim-fit hoodie with a white shirt, blue jeans, and running shoes.

I smile a bit myself, he looks kinda cute with that innocent expression on his face-

Woah, okay, BACK UP.

I hand him the card and he gets on his knees in the cart.

He slides the card, puts in his PIN and puts the bags in the cart.

The woman smiles, whispering something to Remy as I was daydreaming.

He smiles broadly, a smile he never directed towards me, and nodded.

He waved bye as I pushed the cart outside to the cart station.

I don't ask him about what she said, I really don't wanna know.

I honestly felt a bit jealous.

I helped him out of the cart and carried the bags as he walked beside me.

We walk side-by-side and I know we're watching each other on the way back.

I feel it.

The jealousy from earlier is still boiling in me.

If not for that, I wouldn't have been such a douche.

"Remy?" I ask.

He looks away from me, "What?"

"Why did you do that the other day?"

"Do what?" he asks, confused.

"Curse at me then kick me around."

I see him flinch and he swallows, almost nervous.

"I'm really sorry for that."

I smile a bit, "I know."

"You do?"

"I figured it out when I saw the look of horror on your face when you ran."

He smiles slightly, "Good... I don't want you to hate me."

"I know, you said that before. Why did you do that, though?"

His expression turns dark, "My dad told me we can't be friends."

I stay silent.

"He said I was filth if I stayed around you."

"Why do you care what he says?" I said curtly, hurt.

"I am going to inherit both of their industries, Timmy."

Suddenly, I was getting the picture.

"I'm a liability to your social standing... aren't I?"

He stops me at his doorstep, making me look him in the eye.

"Timmy, I would never feel like that about you, ever."

He takes a shaky breath, "You're my best friend, I don't want to lose you-"

I swear I saw tears, I left him alone and walked inside.

I set everything down then pulled him inside by the wrist, shutting the door.

I sat on the couch with him, hugging him.

"You're my best friend, too."

It came out before I realized.

I was being honest...

Wasn't I?

This boy was fucking with my head...

What happened to my rational thought?

Did it leave once I came here?

Or was it the first time I got to know Remy Buxaplenty?


	21. That Weird Temptation

After a while he starts to calm down.

Soon after, though, he fell asleep on the couch across from me.

I suddenly had a quirky thought,_ I never acted that way when I took meds._

_Then again, I used to take them fairly often._

_I only act that way if I'm on a sugar high or if I'm really tired._

_Maybe he's never taken that kind of meds before?_

_He could've been faking it, though._

_Oh god, what if he **was** faking?_

_I made a complete ass of myself and he'll rile me for it later._

I let out a defeated sigh and lay on my side, watching him.

He looked like a defenseless little kid, curled up on the couch.

The left side of his hair falling into his face, only one half of his face visible.

One knee was bent, jutting outward.

His other leg balanced, mid-calf, onto the crook of his right foot.

His left fist covering his left eye and his other fist covering the left half of his mouth.

I couldn't help but find the sight cute.

Suddenly, the cats started pouring into the room.

I watch as the smaller ones lay beside me.

The bigger one stares at me, it's eyes narrowing before laying with Remy.

Not disturbing the sleeping cats beside me, I walk over to Remy.

Nozomi, with her head laying on his side, looks at me suspiciously.

I sit on my haunches, brushing the hair from his face.

He stirs slightly, muttering something.

I had never been this close to him before.

Looking up close, I notice little things, things I shouldn't allow myself to notice.

Like the way his cheek bones protrude slightly.

How his blond eyelashes are long, and curve upward.

The slight red in his cheeks.

The way he always breathes through his mouth.

His lips are a little too big, almost pouty, which he got from his mother.

Carefully, I reach out my fingertip and brush it along his bottom lip.

He moves a bit, snoring softly, then stopping again.

Nozomi is asleep, I notice, laughing under my breath.

He licks his lips and I notice a small hole in his tongue.

I sit a few feet away from him.

"He had a piercing? Bet mummy and daddy didn't like that too much." I say, a bit too loudly.

He stirs, his eyes fluttering open, I vaguely wonder if he'd always been awake.

He wipes his mouth, drool.

Apparently not.

"Yeah, they made me take it out. It was mostly just out of rebellion."

I nodded, I always wanted gauges, so I understood.

"And," he laughs "I was curious what it would feel like."

I roll my eyes, "Metallic, obviously."

I wonder, what would it feel like to kiss someone with a tongue ring.

He pipes up, "The girl I dated at the time loved it. I couldn't keep her tongue out of my mouth."

Gag, the idea of him kissing some girl like that is revolting.

He rolls his eyes at my disgusted response, "I'm just glad you didn't do anything weird while I was asleep."

I smirk, "What if I did?"

Inwardly, I was telling my brain: What the fuck are you doing?

I already knew, though, I wanted to kiss Remy.

The temptation suddenly made my throat dry, why do I like _him_ of all people?

I just admitted I like him, fuck.

By using the word 'admitted' it's now official, doublefuck.

I stand, heading to my room, "Goodnight."

"Goodnight Turner." I hear as I walk up the stairs.

It's official, I'm now a victim of stockholm syndrome.


	22. That Wierd Dream

I woke up a few hours later because I heard my door open.

Awake, yes, but too tired to open my eyes yet.

The door closed softly before I heard a muffled sound by the door.

After a few minutes, I was finally conscious enough to open my eyes.

Upon doing so, I found Remy leaning his back against the door.

He was _watching me._

"Good morning, Mr. Buxaplenty, sorry you had to wake me. Want me to make breakfast?"

His eyes seemed hurt for just a brief second but he covered it.

It must have hurt, we were so close last night.

I called him Remy without even thinking and now I'm back to formalities.

"No, it's about noon now. Time for lunch but who has time for that?"

I feel like something just crawled in my brain and died.

I wanna kill him, again.

He smiled at my expression, "No worries. In return, we'll have dinner. My treat."

"Meaning before we go I have to do the chores." I say flatly.

He smiles, "Wow, you're good at this game."

"Game?"

"Nothing, just be finished by 7pm. I'm taking the cats to an adoption center."

My throat went dry, "Why take them there?"

His smirk faltered, and his expression went grim, "They found out."

He left without another word and I felt sick to my stomach.

They were making him get rid of the cats?

He loved them so much, though, like they were his own siblings.

It hurt to see him like that but it's beyond my control.

I can't help him if there's no way to.

* * *

A few hours later I go upstairs and take a shower.

I hear the door unlock and I stare nervously at the maroon shower curtain.

"Yes? Remy? Need something?"

I hear him shuffling around, "Nah, just got you some clothes to wear."

Still staring at the curtain, I decide it's not sheer enough to see through.

"You forgot to bring some in, Turner."

I felt small shivers down my spine as I remembered that dream.

As a distraction, I rinse myself off.

"Oh, and I brought some clean boxers from your drawer."

I leaned against the shower wall, blushing something awful.

"Thanks, Mr. Buxaplenty." I say shakily.

There's a short silence, "Your welcome."

I reach my arm from behind the closed curtain, "Hand me my towel?"

Once I feel it in my hand, I turn off the water and hear the door close.

He's gone.

I almost sigh in relief, drying off before putting on my boxers.

Hair dryer in one hand, I blow dry my hair.

I look over at the toilet lid, a red box lying on it.

The red box from the tailor where he got the maid outfit.

Oh god, what was Remy going to make me wear?

* * *

Luckily, it was just a white shirt, black tux, and a red tie.

I felt a bit reassured that Remy was being normal for once.

However, another problem presented itself.

Where were we going and why do I have to wear a suit?


	23. That Weird Discomfort

I had put on the suit, begrudgingly, and went downstairs to wait for him.

Knowing for a fact he would primp more than the typical female, I made myself comfortable.

I checked my watch, a silver Rolex that had been left inside the box "accidentally".

We were obviously dressing to impress, but to impress who?

A second later I felt his hand on my shoulder, "Come on, we'll be late."

He walked ahead of me, not sparing a glance my way.

I almost felt offended, almost.

Before I got in the limo, the driver stopped me.

"Mr. Turner, you didn't tie it properly."

I frowned as he adjusted it and motioned to the seat beside him in the front.

"He wants you to sit in the front with me. He said he needed some alone time."

I nodded and got in the passenger seat.

The entire ride, I idly wondered what he needed to be alone for.

Not only that, but who we were meeting that made him so reclusive.

* * *

Once we arrived at the expensive restaurant I had a revelation.

This was a business meeting, not just some privilege.

I knew there had to be a catch.

Stepping out of the car, I did as the driver told me and opened Remy's door for him.

He frowned, "I can open my own door."

I responded flatly, "Just following orders."

His eyes seem to turn really dark and he grabs my collar.

Snarling in my ear he says, "You are _my_ maid. You follow _my _orders."

I shake from his warm breath in my ear, "Yes, Mr. Buxaplenty."

He lets go of me, straightening my collar before going in.

I follow timidly behind him, feeling more than a little out of place.

I watch the back of his head, realizing his hair is slightly styled.

Enough to where it's less messy but not too much as to make it stiff.

I almost run my fingers through it before I catch myself.

We walk to a private room and sit across the table from each other.

* * *

After a half hour, we're still sitting in silence.

He keeps his eyes on the door behind me, I scratch away at the paint on the wooden table.

Silence between us.

I smell the smoke pouring from his cigarette.

I hear some kind of foreign music playing softly from speakers in the corner of the room.

A clock on the wall, ticking away at every second.

I stand, "Bathroom." I say curtly, heading out the door.

On my way towards the entrance, I realize I'm not so sure he heard me.

* * *

I walk into the bathroom and head straight for the sink.

I splash water in my face, staring at my reflection in the mirror.

My bangs are damp, hanging in my face, my face is flushed, my pupils dilated.

I wipe off my face with a hand towel and head back towards the room.

On my way, I check my watch.

The driver said he'd be here waiting by 9, it's 8:30 now.

Remy has waited 45 minutes, they're late.

I know for a fact.

Remy is the kind of person who abhors being early but would rather die than be late.

He arrives precisely on time, it's who he is.

I pause with my palm on the handle, I hear muffled voices.

They're finally here?

I open the door and I see Mr. and Ms. Buxaplenty, watching Remy as he eats silently.

I come in and take my seat where I was before, finding it still unused.

"Why is _he _here?" his dad asks, looking at me like a pest.

"He hasn't eaten all day." Remy says calmly, sneaking a glance at him.

His father closes his eyes in thought then looks at me from my right side.

"Eat whatever you want, my treat."

At first I thought he said "head on a platter" and I almost choked on my water.

"Thanks, Mr. Ronald."

He smiles and I feel my guts wrench, I now understood why Remy feared him.

Right now, I am terrified.


	24. That Weird Situation

He watches me like a piece of meat from the corner of his eye.

Everyone is silent.

Remy's father looks directly at me, "So, tell me about your parents."

I raised my eyes and looked into Harold's.

"I heard from them that they beat you." he says flatly.

Remy's mom is emotionless.

Remy almost chokes on his food.

"Father." Remy chides.

"What? I'm curious." Harold looks to Remy.

I stand quietly, "I'll go retrieve the limo."

My face is covered; I make no move to push my bangs from my face.

Once I leave the room slow, I carefully close the door.

I walk a bit faster, then break into a run.

I don't dare to look if anyone's watching.

I reach the car and practically fling myself in the backseat.

The driver is gone, all doors unlocked.

I press the door locks button, put up the separator blind and start crying.

I press the heel of my palms into my eyes, sobbing.

My stomach heaves in sobs, I can't stop crying.

* * *

A few minutes later, the door on my right opens.

Damn, that lock must be broken.

My face is still red, my voice still shakes.

"Oh, hey..." I say hoarsely.

He sits across from me, a foot away, manually locking the door.

"I'm so sorry about that...", he wipes tears from my cheek with his thumb.

I take another shaky breath.

"I didn't know they would..."

I start crying again, _god, I feel like an idiot._

"Don't cry, p-please, just-" he says desperately.

"I told them they were complete assholes for talking to you like that."

He talks faster, "I rushed out of there and I'm so sorry they lied like-"

"They do beat me..." I whispered softly.

He looked at me as if I slapped him, he looked almost pissed.

"They **what**?"

I explain what happened with my dad... and my mom.

He listened intently, his hand gently on my knee.

Making sure I knew he was there.

* * *

When I finished he gave me the most profound look.

He wiped the final tears from my cheeks but his hand lingered.

"Remy..." I warned.

"Shhhh" he cooed, smiling softly.

His expression was so kind, so understanding...

When I became aware of where I was, I found myself kissing Remy.

Remy, of all people.

His eyes were open, shocked, but my eyes were closed.

I moved away, it had been brief but my heart was racing.

He stared at me, thinking.

He didn't push me away... but he didn't kiss back, either.

I immediately tried to apologize, "I'm sorry, I, uh-"

"Shut up." he said curtly.

I made one of those "gasping fish" faces.

I didn't know what to do.

He looks up at me and I feel him pull me into his lap.

His hand on my waist is tight, his fingers dig into my side.

I stare at him in shock, "What are you..?"

He suddenly smirks, "I believe I told you to shut up, servant."

Then, he kisses me.

I didn't know he's into that kinda stuff but, hey, it works.

You know those butterflies you get when you're nervous?

I have a flock of doves fucking flapping for their lives.

I kiss back, almost violently.

I don't think he understands how much I wanted him.

Correction: want him.

So bad.

Like, now.

* * *

After a few minutes later of a heated makeout, I hear a knocking.

Must be the driver.

Remy lets him in and we sit quietly in the back, the blind still up.

I lean my head on his shoulder and he rubs small circles in my lower back.

Once we get back to the house we go in his room and...

You know... the thing.

Oh, for the love of god, do not make me tell The Birds and The Bees shtick.

Anyway, it happened.

End of story...

At least, so I thought.


	25. That Weird Happiness (THE END)

When I wake up in the morning, he's still there.

Albeit snoring, loudly.

Very much like a motorboat.

I laugh a little and watch him sleep, thinking.

Under the covers, I search for his hand and lock our fingers together.

In his sleep, he lets out a small smile.

I know that what happened last night was probably a fluke.

He probably will tell me to forget about it.

He'll probably say he was using me.

I look towards his neck and blush, he looks like hell.

Noticing slight goosebumps on his skin, letting go of his hand, I pull the blanket to under our chins.

He used to be shorter than me, I vaguely remember, but now he's a bit taller than me.

Missing the warm of his skin, I slowly slide into his chest.

I smile when he wraps his arm around me, putting my cheek in the crook of his neck.

I knew I liked him, but I didn't expect this.

* * *

Slowly he wakes up and smiles at me, still groggy.

His thick, British accent is deep, guttural from sleep, "I'm guessing that wasn't a dream."

I shake my head, almost afraid of his response.

"Oh, good, because I could get used to more like last night."

I look up at him, laughing with him, both of us blushing.

"God, let's just go get breakfast, okay? It should be 9 by now." I mutter, leaning off the side of the bed.

I feel him watch me get dressed with a smirk, "You were wild last night, Timmy."

I blush harder, trying to ignore the comment, he just keeps on going.

"I didn't know you felt that way about me, Timmy."

I sigh, "Well I did.. do feel that way."

He gets off the bed and pulls his boxers on, "Well that's what I like to hear."

I look at him in confusion and he smirks evilly, "'Cuz you had your turn, tonight is mine."

* * *

Once we eat breakfast we sit on the couch and watch tv.

I get bored quickly and Remy seemed to notice, pulling me into his lap.

He wrapped his arms around my stomach and smiled against my neck.

Occasionally, he'd press a kick to the back of my neck.

"I love you." he whispered.

"I love you too." I whispered back, smiling.

* * *

We decided to go on a date today, I wore my usual hoodie, tee, and jeans.

He, on the other hand, wore the clothes I bought him.

He refused to cover up the bruises and scratches I left on him.

I was kind of embarrassed but we weren't walking too close.

We didn't show any sign of dating, we couldn't.

We had fun, though.

* * *

_**NO-ONE'S POV**_

There they walked down the street, roaming around in the shopping district. Little did they know, they were being followed. The person suspected what was going on but kept it quiet. Nobody needed to know what they knew yet, not until they were sure. Not until they were truly sure that Remy Buxaplenty and Timmy Turner were not only secretly dating, but living together. On top of all that, if it was true, Remy would not only lose his inheritance of the companies, but would be completely disowned. Only time will tell.

* * *

_**Author's Note:**_

_**Well, that is the end of this story, thanks to those who stuck around! I'm hoping to have a short-ish sequel but to be honest I think we all know how it'll end. I did already give hints throughout the story, anyway. Love you guys, r&r!**_

_**~Elijah X. Blackwood**_


End file.
